No Point In Fighting It
by Hapkido9Chick
Summary: Aayla's Jedi training never prepared her for this. One-shot, Aayla/Bly


Well. This is _definitely _not cannon; not all. I usually don't do all this mushy, lovey-dovey type stuff, but I've had this pairing in my head for a while and it's been driving me crazy. What's worse is that I _hate _pairings between a Jedi who would never go against what he/she believes, but that's precisely what this is...

As always, Star Wars isn't mine, blah blah blah.

* * *

The Jedi sat bent over her datapad, painstakingly reviewing the losses of the day's battle. Ninety-eight confirmed either dead or wounded, and another sixteen unaccounted for. She sighed, scanning through the serial numbers of the deceased clones, hoping not to see _his _name pop up on the screen.

Aayla Secura shook her head and dropped the datapad. What was she thinking? It was useless. She stood, and warily walked to the viewport that seemed to be staring at her from the other side of her office.

_This is ridiculous, _she thought, resting her hands on her slender hips. _Why am I unable to stop thinking about him? I must control my thoughts. _She stared out at the docking bay below her, watching the crowds of busy troopers marching off to make repairs or clean their gear or get some much needed rest. Gunships unloaded masses of clones who were returning from the battle planet-side, and she watched each one, hoping…but no.

Suddenly, she felt firm arms encircling her waist and heard an unmistakable gruff-but-soft voice whispering in her ear.

"Aayla."

Despite the relief that flooded her body at hearing his voice, she stiffened as his lips brushed her neck, knowing that it was no use. There was no point in putting up a barrier – as soon as she turned to face him and looked into his irresistible eyes, it would come crashing down.

It always did.

When she spoke, it was little more than a murmur.

"Please, you should not be here. What if-"

A hand lifted from her waist and darkened the viewport. "No one can see."

"But the door…" _Please, leave, _she begged. _Please let the door be open and let him leave. _But even as her mind prayed for it, she knew that his continued presence would bring more peace than his departure would.

"It's closed, General." The hand on the viewport panel returned to her waist, though the lips had not left her ear. "Aayla. Look at me – we're safe now."

She was so close to him she could feel the steady beat of his heart, she could hear his deep, measured breaths, she could feel each warm breath on her cheek and it was enough to make her weak.

But she wouldn't turn – she _couldn't. _It didn't matter for how long she had desired this, or how much she wanted it now; if she turned, it would ruin them both.

His hold tightened, securing her against his chest. She relaxed in his grip, letting him embrace her but knowing she should fight it. She felt a finger trace along her lek, sending a quiver through her body.

"Please, Aayla, there's not much time. Turn around." There was pleading in his voice now.

She tried to speak firmly, determinedly, but her voice failed her. "I cannot," she whispered gently. "I'm asking you, Bly – please go."

"Why won't you let me see your face?" He was offended now, and the confusion and hurt was evident in his tone. "What have I done?"

Her eyes grew moist, and she was glad that she had resisted the temptation to turn. "You've done nothing, Bly. _Nothing_. But you know as well as I do that every moment in here endangers us; every word we speak jeopardizes our mission, our integrity and our command of those who depend on us."

He didn't fail to notice the reluctance in her words. She didn't _want _to send him away from her – the unwillingness in her voice had given her away, and they both knew it.

Even her own voice had betrayed her.

He was whispering to her again, but now only one hand was on her waist, while the other had found its way to her arm. The warmth of his touch still astounded her…

His voice was gentle yet firm, calm, and knowing all at once. "You don't want me to go."

She would have laughed at his attempt at a Jedi mind-trick, if only his statement weren't true. Instead, tears were welling in her hazel eyes, and she realized that if she spoke, they would fall. She quickly shook her head, hoping he would realize how important it was for them to ignore their desire, to part ways.

At the same time, however, she knew that was not going to happen.

Bly's hands turned her gently, guiding her, so that he could see her face. Although she knew she should, she didn't resist.

"General Skywalker has returned to The Resolute, and the Admiral is busy on deck. You don't have to worry about being found out."

"I do not fear discovery," she replied evenly. _I'm afraid of you_. She stared at the floor, refusing to look at the man in front of her.

His touch was tender as he lifted her chin, but she jerked it from his hand. "Aayla, look at me!"

At last, she gave up, peering into his golden eyes and suddenly remembered why she cared for him, why she was willing to risk her status, her reputation – her life – for him. His gaze held such love, such passion, such constant kindness whenever he looked at her.

No one had ever looked at her like _that _before.

The emotion in his eyes only intensified with his reply, as if he had read her thoughts. "You don't have anything to fear from me, General."

And then, his lips were on hers, and she couldn't fight him any longer. The passion in his kiss rippled throughout her body, encompassing her in his steady warmth. She lost all thoughts of fear, of conscience, of duty and betrayal, only able to think about his lips and his touch and his arms around her. He pulled her closer and she draped her arms around his neck, deepening their kiss. He pulled away after a few breathless moments, simply looking at her.

She would remember his next words through everything. Through two more years of guilty pleasure and passion, two years of looking into a fellow Jedi's trusting eyes and knowing that she didn't deserve the faith they held, two years of hardships and battles and death…through all of this, she would think of his next words and somehow find the strength and resilience to carry on.

"Aayla," he murmured, his voice quiet and tender but somehow managing to ring in her ears nonetheless. "I love you, Aayla."

The Jedi's response was to kiss him again, matching his passion with her own.

* * *

Well, what do you think? Believable? Like it? Let me know, please! =]


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